I thought I'd try with several more books:
"The sofa was perfect for sleeping."
From Haruki Murakami's Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. I did recently come across a dating site profile where the woman in question explicitly stated that she wanted to be fucked on a sofa. Maybe I should message her... or maybe I should try again.
"So, there was nearly no reason for me to continue in school, and the band was happening, so I quit."
Mike Mills of R.E.M. explains what turned out to be a shrewd move in R.E.M.: Fiction by David Buckley. I don't know how that helps me, though.
"Connected to the machine by a tangle of wires, armbands and suction pads, the patient does not suffer, he simply has to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and to cease to believe in the universal assertion, the old, old story, which since the beginning of time, has been drummed into us, that the will can do anything, for you need look no further than the following example, which denies it outright, because that wonderful will of yours, however much you may trust it, however tenacious it may have been up until now, cannot control twitching muscles, cannot staunch unwanted sweat or stop eyelids blinking or regulate breathing."
Jose Saramago's Seeing manages to be of negative help, not only being obtuse on the relevant subject, but being impenetrable in and of itself. Moving on-
"This isn't some kind of optical illusion: the passage of time is slowed down on the moving train according to someone on the platform."
Brian Cox and Jeff Forshaw's Why Does E=mc2? offers a trippier prediction. I'll settle for it.
